


The Safeword is "Brobdingnagian"

by Lauren (notalwaysweak)



Category: Big Bang Theory
Genre: Alternate Universe, Contracts, Dominance, First Time, Gay Chicken, M/M, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Spit Roast, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-25
Updated: 2012-02-25
Packaged: 2017-10-31 17:19:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/pseuds/Lauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A game of Settlers. A game of sexual entendres. A game of gay chicken. Does it matter what they're playing when nobody's keeping score and everyone wins in the end? Sheldon/Howard/Raj.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Safeword is "Brobdingnagian"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Muir_Wolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muir_Wolf/gifts).



> Spoilers for – and direct lines from – “The Recombination Hypothesis”.
> 
> This fic takes place in an AU where Howard and Raj are in an established relationship, and Raj is still Sheldon’s roommate, mostly because Wolfie asks me so nicely to do these things. If this is weird, remember that it’s also in an intra-series AU due to the fact that the Settlers game takes place only in Leonard’s imagination.
> 
> Credit for the ‘Deli and Delhi’ line goes to Fia. Betaing kudos, especially for noticing that I had somehow managed to leave out the middle of a sentence, goes to Jen. Ownership of the characters is still Prady and Lorre's, although if the misogyny gets much worse I'm going to sue for custody of Penny.
> 
> * * *

“Who has wood for my sheep?”

Sheldon’s not quite sure what Howard and Raj are laughing so hard about the first time, but quickly cottons onto his unintended double entendre – and decides to push it as far as possible. The two of them have disrupted his sleep enough nights with muffled risqué comments (and noises) that he knows he won’t ever outright embarrass them, but he also knows that once Raj gets the giggles he finds it very hard to concentrate on the game.

But then Leonard bursts in demanding to know if he looks okay, as though getting approval from the three of them is the key to winning Penny back, and it throws Sheldon off his rhythm.

“I didn’t _defile_ your sister, we had a relationship.”

“I heard you call her ‘brown sugar’. In my book that’s defilement.”

“You don’t mind it when _I_ call _you_ ‘brown sugar’,” Howard says.

“When have you ever called me ‘brown sugar’? You’ve never called me that.” Raj pauses to consider. “You call me ‘Brown _Bear_ ’ when you’ve been watching too much _Scrubs_.”

“Oh my God, forget I asked,” says Leonard, and hightails it out of the apartment.

“Now, where were we?” Sheldon asks.

“Looking for your wood.” Howard doesn’t even bother attempting to keep a straight face as he moves to sit on the floor, leaning against Raj’s legs.

“Must you?”

Howard shrugs. “Sorry. Habit. I don’t have wood. I have ore.”

“What did you just call me?” Raj asks.

“ _Ore_ , not... oh, never mind.” Howard gathers his tiles into one hand and starts stroking Raj’s thigh in a placatory way with the other. “Make your move, Sheldon, we haven’t got all night.”

“Why, have you got somewhere else to be? A _date_?” Raj glares down at the top of his head. Sheldon waits for the two of them to stop squabbling and lays down a couple of grain tiles instead. Eventually Raj realizes it’s his turn and reaches for the dice, and the game begins to progress once more.

There’s no perceptible transition between the two of them just messing around a little, and Howard doing whatever it is with his hand between Raj’s thighs that makes Raj’s face go red.

Sheldon is naturally familiar with the basic concept of what’s going on. He’s tempted to make a remark about how it’s so typical of them to make these public displays of affection – two years into the relationship and they’re still revoltingly clingy – but then he realizes that this display is intentional.

And it’s for him.

The thought makes him profoundly uncomfortable in a number of ways.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks, putting his tiles down on the table.

Nobody whose mother still cuts his hair should be able to manage that predatory a facial expression. “We’re just trying to work out what your deal is, Sheldon.”

“I fail to see how molesting each other in front of me during an innuendo-laden game of Settlers of Catan qualifies as ‘working out my deal’. Where’s your scientific method? What’s your null hypothesis?”

“You’re right, we should have played Munchkin.” Raj reaches one hand out to lay it over Sheldon’s hand on the arm of the couch. Sheldon tries to pull his hand away but Raj’s fingers tighten warm across his. “Just go with it for five minutes, okay? You can’t know you won’t like it if you’ve never tried it.”

“I disagree,” Sheldon says. “I know I wouldn’t like pizza with pineapple and anchovies on it, and I’ve never had to try it to be certain.” The way Raj’s thumb is brushing the back of his hand is making his skin tingle, and he can’t quite persuade himself that it’s because he’s concerned about Raj-germs.

Howard looks up at Raj from where he’s sitting on the floor between Raj’s feet. He’s got one hand on Raj’s knee and the other... higher up. “Did he just compare us to mismatched pizza toppings? I always thought we were more like lox and bagels.”

“Deli and Delhi,” Raj says, and the two of them share a laugh. Raj is still doing those lazy stroking movements, along Sheldon’s fingers now. He isn’t repulsed by it and he’s puzzled that he isn’t. Usually by now he would be running for the Lysol.

“Do you think you could have curry with bagels?” Howard moves his hand from Raj’s knee to Sheldon’s, making Sheldon jump, and starts spiderwalking his fingers up and down Sheldon’s thigh.

“You know I hate Indian food.”

They are making it seem as though it’s perfectly natural for the two of them to be not-so-stealthily inviting him to join them for.... whatever it is they’re intending. Sheldon’s not so certain it’s even remotely natural, but both Raj and Howard seem to be comfortable with the situation.

Or are they?

Bold as Howard’s hand is, it doesn’t go past mid-thigh; Raj’s hand is shaking just a little, and Sheldon decides he’s going to call their bluff.

He turns his hand over beneath Raj’s, lacing their fingers together, and at the same time covers Howard’s hand with his other hand, sliding it a little higher on his thigh. His own hypotheses: they’ll either back down, or reveal that this is all a joke.

Both of them freeze.

Sheldon refrains from smirking. It’s as he suspected; they are comfortable with one another thanks to years of being together, both officially and unofficially, but they’ve made a mistake by trying to draw him, bitten off more than they can chew, and now—

—and now Howard is pulling Sheldon’s hand to his mouth and is sucking in one of his fingers. What he’s doing with his tongue can only be described as obscene. Sheldon hears a surprised moan and thinks for a moment it might be himself, until he sees Raj’s mouth hanging open as he stares at Howard.

Howard releases Sheldon’s finger and gives him a sly look. “Maybe our curry bagel would taste better with some fine Texan beef in the middle.”

“Dude, that is now officially the worst metaphor in the universe.” Raj’s look to Sheldon is apologetic.

“You just don’t appreciate my sense of humor.”

Raj groans. “Sheldon, put your finger back in his mouth and see if he’ll shut up.”

Sheldon does so, easing his fingertip between Howard’s lips and teeth; it works as Howard’s eyes close and his tongue curls around Sheldon’s finger. Fascinating. Of course, it might not be practical to do this in all of the instances that Howard needs silencing, but it might be suitable for some of them. He files the information away for future reference, and only then becomes fully aware of just what Howard’s doing with his tongue. Currently he’s teasing the delicate skin between Sheldon’s index and middle finger. Sheldon feels, objectively, as though he should be disgusted. In actuality, his natural tendency towards scientific curiosity betrays him and he starts to wonder what else Howard can do with his tongue.

He turns to Raj, attempting to formulate an appropriate question (if there is one, in this case), and the look on Raj’s face derails him from whatever he was about to say. Raj looks like a schoolboy tentatively lending out his favorite toy. (Or offering to share his bagel.) Sheldon doesn’t know how to reassure him because he doesn’t know what exactly is happening here, how it pivots around him, but maybe he can at least take Raj’s mind off it. He’s still holding Raj’s hand and brings it now to his lips, brushing a kiss over Raj’s knuckles.

Game on.

Raj gives him a single anguished look, temporarily rendered mute, and then his mouth is claiming Sheldon’s with aggressive confidence. All Sheldon can do is kiss right back with all the little he knows about it because he refuses to back down now.

“He’s wanted you for a while now,” Howard pipes up from around Sheldon’s finger. “I think it was the day Kurt pantsed you that first got his attention.”

“Howard, why do you have to talk so much?” Raj asks, aggrieved, and Howard’s weight shifts on the floor. Sheldon hears the sound of a zipper being opened and opens his eyes in time to see Howard nudge his head into Raj’s lap. He knows the exact moment when Howard’s lips encircle Raj’s cock by the look on Raj’s face and the familiar strangled gasp he has heard through their shared wall on many other nights.

Sheldon has watched porn before (curiosity again); he has leafed through _Playboy_ (and, after realizing he should cover all variables, _Playgirl_ ); he has even, with utmost trepidation, perused a Kirk/Spock fan fiction archive. None of it has ever done anything for him. (Well, maybe the Kirk/Spock stuff. A little.)

This is different. This bypasses the surface levels of the mind to which glossy magazines and written erotica do not speak and goes straight to the primal center of his brain, making him let out a sound of surprise. While he’s got his mouth open Raj takes advantage of the opportunity to slip his tongue back between Sheldon’s lips. His kiss is shakier this time, no doubt due to Howard’s ministrations. Howard’s cheeks are hollowed a little with how hard he’s sucking, and he’s making a low humming noise; perhaps he’s trying to prove that sound can indeed travel in a vacuum.

Raj’s kissing is getting downright sloppy. Sheldon doesn’t think it possible to redirect the entirety of Raj’s attention back to him, but he can try. He cups the side of Raj’s face with his hand and concentrates hard on finding the best angle for his mouth to move against Raj’s lips and tongue. It’s amazing, really, how profound an effect such a simple act can have on someone.

By this, he doesn’t mean Raj. He is thinking, in fact, of the effect it’s having on himself. To put it simply, he’s realizing how much more amenable he is to the idea of touching and being touched, germs or no germs, now that it is happening to him and with him. His mouth drifts across Raj’s skin, lips caressing his cheek, feeling the tiny dots of stubble; his teeth find Raj’s earlobe and nip lightly.

Sheldon becomes dimly aware that the other two are talking.

Raj: “Howard, don’t stop.”

Howard: “But look at Sheldon.”

Raj: “I don’t need to. I can feel what he’s doing.”

Howard: “And how is it more important than what I was doing?”

Raj: “You’re right. We should take this to the bedroom. My back’s starting to hurt.”

This is when Sheldon hazily realizes that he’s been sucking at the side of Raj’s neck for the last minute, and that Raj’s voice is less than steady. Howard stands up and so does Raj; Sheldon is a little resistant to the notion of moving, but if he stays put they win. Damn Howard with his smug smirk and quick hands; damn Raj with his lazy sensual smile and soft touch.

It’s Howard who says, “The five minutes are up, Sheldon, you don’t have to come with us if you don’t want to.”

“But we’d really like you to,” Raj hastily adds.

Sheldon gets to his feet. “It would be remiss of me not to finish the game.” He pointedly looks at them rather than down at the scattered Settlers tiles and they don’t need him to explain any further.

“Since it’s all new for you, we should let you in on our safeword. If something’s happening that you don’t like or you’re not ready for or you don’t want to do just yet, the safeword stops everything.” Howard is matter-of-fact; Raj is blushing slightly.

“What is it?”

Raj is the one who answers. “Brobdingnagian.”

This startles a laugh out of Sheldon and makes Raj’s blush darken. Howard looks between them. “This was an in-joke for you two already?”

“Only because I was trying to piss him off.” Raj is practically hanging his head. Sheldon sort of wants to hug him.

“Well. Just... anyway. Shall we?” Howard gestures toward the hallway.

Sheldon goes with them. Toes his shoes and socks off in the doorway of Raj’s bedroom, surveying the trappings and ornaments and Bollywood DVD collection that indicate India isn’t so far away for Raj after all. Tumbles onto the bright patchwork quilt when Raj drags him down by the hem of his twin t-shirts, insistently inching them up. Howard’s sitting on the floor, cursing at his bootlaces. Sheldon’s reasonably certain there’s meant to be an order in which these things proceed, but with Howard’s mouth out of the way he’s free to exercise a particular curiosity, and so reaches down to close his hand slowly around Raj’s cock.

The effect is immediate; Raj shudders and his fingertips twist into Sheldon’s t-shirt. Sheldon starts moving his hand, mentally noting the differences; shorter than him, but also thicker, and of course darker. It’s difficult to make too many detailed observations because Raj keeps writhing under his touch, but the heat and hardness are definitely similar to touching himself. The thought is strangely arousing; he knows how shamefully pleasurable it can be on those occasions when he gives into his body’s urges and brings himself off, and knowing he’s making Raj feel that way is a definite point in favor of this whole unusual encounter. It’s odd to be wearing so much; even when he’s alone he strips to his bare skin in order to facilitate an easier clean-up. At the same time fighting through layers of clothes just for that bit of skin to skin contact makes it all the more worthwhile; the way Raj is still determined to get his hands on Sheldon’s bare chest makes that obvious.

Howard gets up onto the bed at last and immediately dives in between Raj’s legs in an overt display of possessiveness, licking Raj’s cock from root to tip, heedless of Sheldon’s hand in the way. Sheldon only realizes there’s a warm line of pre-come running over his fingers when Howard’s tongue swipes it away, replacing it with fast-cooling saliva.

Almost every cell in Sheldon’s brain is protesting this unclean exchange of bodily fluids. Unfortunately they’re outnumbered by the entirety of his body and the primitive drive that’s kicked in, which has his tongue chasing after Howard’s, licking at his own fingers. Seconds later he’s dealing with not just the remnant taste of Raj’s pre-ejaculate, but the actual thing spilling thick and salty over his fingers and lips and tongue. He lifts his head, licks his lips, and hears Raj’s soft drawn-out moan as Howard bends his head again, tongue darting over Sheldon’s hand and Raj’s cock to finish the cleanup.

* * *

“What now?” Raj asks a million years or so later, his voice dripping with satisfaction like melted caramel. Sheldon is just finishing up dabbing his fingers with a tissue; Howard’s looking at Sheldon with what is either newfound respect (as though this encounter has somehow made him more of a man) or confused surprise.

“Take your stupid vest off, you know I hate chafing.” Howard moves to pull off his own clothes. Sheldon hesitates for the barest millisecond and Raj takes the opportunity, while he’s motionless, to yank his t-shirts firmly up and off over his head and then pinch one of Sheldon’s nipples. The sensation of brief sharp pain is surprisingly not unpleasant. Raj catches the look on Sheldon’s face and does it again before Howard pulls him away to get his clothes off. Sheldon’s left to remove his own pants; he takes the time to fold them and his t-shirts onto a chair beside Raj’s bed while the other two have a moment to themselves.

The next thing he knows Raj is pulling him back down onto the bed with all the urgency of a child temporarily deprived of his new toy. They kiss, and then Howard’s mouth is on the side of Sheldon’s neck, pulling purposefully at his skin.

(He ends up wearing a scarf to cover up the resulting mark despite the warm weather. People politely pretend not to notice.)

This seems to have ceased being about competition, now. Raj’s hands roam Sheldon’s body with the greedy intensity of an explorer discovering ( _claiming_ ) new territory. Sheldon gives himself over to pure sensation and finds that it’s not as unlike pure thought as he’d imagined. Neurons firing, hormones and neurotransmitters moving through the brain, just in different patterns now.

Howard yanks open the top drawer of the nightstand on the other side of Raj’s bed, retrieves the lube, and starts fingering Raj open, which makes Raj’s hands stutter over Sheldon’s skin. His pupils dilate until the brown is eclipsed by black. He’s not fully hard again yet, and Sheldon reaches to touch him, to see whether further stimulation will aid him in overcoming his refractory period.

“Howard... Sheldon... God...” Raj gasps, and Sheldon thinks that although to an outside observer Raj might look like the submissive one here, he actually has a great deal of control over them both. Having heard his name gasped out in that needy voice once, he wants to hear it again.

Howard’s fingers continue to work in and out of Raj’s entrance, two of them in to the second knuckle and slick with lube. Sheldon isn’t quite game enough to press one of his fingers in there alongside Howard’s, but part of him wants to, wants to see how Raj would react if he did. Instead he squeezes out a little of the lube onto his fingers to stroke experimentally at Raj’s cock.

“Dude, stop, you’re going to make me come again before you do,” Raj protests.

Howard smiles wickedly at Raj’s words, pulls his fingers out of Raj with a twist that makes Raj squeak, and wipes his hand on a tissue. He opens the second drawer down in the nightstand this time and pulls out a slim short strip of leather. Raj bucks into Sheldon’s hand when he sees it, and Sheldon reflexively squeezes him a little tighter.

“Good, hold him still,” Howard says, even though Sheldon’s not doing it intentionally, and he reaches down with the leather, pulling it closed (Sheldon can see the worn spot where this has been done before) and buckling it. How often do they play this sort of game, with him asleep in the next room? How much more have they done? There are two more drawers to the nightstand. What does it feel like to be thusly caged and denied?

Raj’s hands creep up to the head of the bed. Solid vertical wooden bars are evenly spaced along it and he grasps two of them. Howard heaves a mock aggrieved sigh and reaches into the second drawer again. Leather cuffs this time, thick and padded, that lock solidly around the bars and around Raj’s wrists. Despite Raj’s penitent sprawl and Howard’s dismissive manner, Sheldon still gets the impression that Raj is the one calling the shots here. It looks uncomfortable, but Howard runs his hands over Raj’s body and Raj rises to meet them and he doesn’t seem to be feeling any discomfort. If anything he looks profoundly aroused; his cock strains against its restraint and when Howard’s fingers slip back inside him it draws a strangled sound that Sheldon has quickly learned to interpret as _more_.

At last Howard rolls on a condom, slicks more lube over himself and over Raj before beginning to push into him. He’s silent, teasing; Raj lets out a low torrent of pleasing curses. Sheldon feels, as he did in the living room, that this is a display for his benefit. But now he’s not quite as disconcerted as he was when this began. This is a logical progression. He has learned some of the rules of the game. So he stretches out on the half of the bed they’re not currently occupying, fists his hand around his own cock, and begins to match Howard’s slow movements.

He knows it’s working when Howard hisses something unintelligible and then says, “Look, Raj, look,” and Raj makes a noise like he’s been shot in the stomach with a paintball pellet.

“Up, Sheldon, come up here,” he says, craning his neck (Howard pauses a moment to shove another pillow under his head and to press a little red ball into his hand) and once Sheldon realizes what they want of him he moves gingerly up the bed to straddle Raj’s chest. Raj looks up at him, dark eyes even more unreadable than usual, and jingles his cuffs encouragingly. Sheldon moves as far up as he can, knees spreading wider for balance. With Raj’s pillow pile for support it’s enough.

He thinks he’s going to either come or go to Hell from the first touch of Raj’s lips and tongue on him. He thinks he was right, that abstaining from this for so long was a good idea, because how could one not get addicted to it? He thinks it wouldn’t take much to lose one’s mind and simply want more.

All he can articulate of this is, “More, more,” and he leans forward, rocking and thrusting, feeling everything from the slow movement of Raj’s tongue along the shaft of his cock to the way his throat flexes when he swallows.

Howard, behind him, asks Raj how it feels. Sheldon assumes it’s a rhetorical question since Raj’s mouth is quite clearly full, but Raj answers it with his body, spreading his legs wider and lifting his head to take Sheldon deeper, and Sheldon has to cling to the headboard and count all his fingers to keep from being immediately overwhelmed. He’s not sure how Howard can keep thinking clearly enough to talk so much, but presumably there’s some sort of trick that comes with sufficient practice. The sexual equivalent of Use Magic Device, maybe.

It definitely seems like some kind of bardic special feat when Howard starts talking even as he keeps moving. “Raj, I know you like it when I fuck you like this. When I’m done with you I think Sheldon should have you next. I think you’d like that. He’s bigger than me, but you can take it, can’t you?” Every few words are punctuated by a swift hard movement on Howard’s part and Raj lets out muffled cries around his mouthful. Sheldon’s positive that Howard’s taking advantage of their privacy to say these things; he wouldn’t dare say them at home for fear of being interrupted mid-coitus by his mother to wash his mouth out with soap.

Sheldon’s mind is reeling from Howard’s suggestion and from the whimpery noises that Raj is making around his cock. Looking down at Raj’s face doesn’t help; Raj looks sublimely pleased to be right where he is. He winks at Sheldon and that’s when something inside Sheldon breaks.

“Hurry up then, Howard, or this is going to be over a lot sooner than you’re intending.”

“You – you actually want to – do that?” Howard, rightfully, sounds surprised. Raj’s tongue stops moving.

Sheldon just looks back over his shoulder at Howard. It’s a challenge. A dare. A new level of the game, and he’s the one starting it. He’s back to reminding them that he does not walk away from a competition a loser.

“Don’t offer what you’re not prepared to share, Wolowitz,” is all he says, and Raj’s hands fist into white-knuckled balls, his hips bucking and his mouth pulling at Sheldon’s cock as Howard lets out a low growl and accepts the challenge as negotiated.

Raj loses the ability to multitask a few moments later, and Sheldon pulls off him to let Howard finish and to prepare himself. He doesn’t miss Raj’s avid gaze as he rolls the tight gloss of the condom on (and maybe he does it slowly to get it right, or maybe it’s because he has an audience), and finds that the sight of Raj’s cock, caught between his body and Howard’s, straining against the ring keeping him from release, is actually quite pleasing.

“Oh God, oh Raj,” Howard moans, apparently not caring how clichéd he sounds in his moment of passion. Sheldon watches his body go tense and then shudder into Raj’s; Raj closes his eyes and Howard kisses him. Sheldon wonders if either of them, lost in each other, remember he’s there at all.

But then Howard rolls off Raj, taking the red ball out of his hand with some comment about having his mouth free now, and Raj laughs and then looks at Sheldon, his eyes still dark. Sheldon moves, uncertain but trying to conceal it, to kneel between Raj’s thighs. Howard has most certainly prepared the way for him.

He runs his fingertips over the cuffs around Raj’s wrists. “Do you need these removed?” he asks softly. Raj shakes his head, even though Sheldon thinks surely he must be in some discomfort by now. He takes Raj’s word for it and runs his hands down Raj’s body, down to the strap still buckled firmly around the base of Raj’s genitals. “This?”

“Not yet. Sheldon—” Raj lifts his hips in invitation and Sheldon torments him a moment longer by taking his time smearing lube over the condom. Howard’s done his cleaning up and is watching them both, probably to ensure Sheldon doesn’t do anything wrong. Sheldon inhales, and uses one hand to guide himself in.

Heat. Tight heat. He lets out an involuntary moan; Raj echoes it. Sheldon looks down at Raj, body stretched taut beneath him, and has to hold still for a moment before he can ease in further, lest he end it all right here and now. Every inch is a revelation of sensation. Bizarrely, he finds himself thinking of Penny, Penny and all her assumed partners, and that he owes her an apology for all the remarks he’s made about her promiscuity, although how on Earth he’d word it he’s got no idea.

Then thought escapes him entirely and he loses himself in the slow rock and slide, in the rhythm they find together. Howard settles with his back against the headboard, playing with Raj’s hair and occasionally offering suggestions about moving or shifting position a little – or, in one instance, saying in a deliberately conversational tone, “Fuck him harder, Sheldon, can’t you see he  wants it?”

Sheldon isn’t _that_ bad at reading facial expressions, or more to the point interpreting them with help from the fact that Raj is attempting to wrap his legs around Sheldon’s waist, but he leans down anyway and whispers into Raj’s ear, “Rajesh. Is he right?”

“Ask me properly.” Raj’s cuff chains rattle against the wood.

Sheldon takes a moment to process this, buried to the balls as he is in aroused astrophysicist, but then it clicks: he’s supposed to talk _dirty_. Oh. Well. He brushes his lips against Raj’s (it gets easier every time, every kiss), and says a little louder, “Do you want me to fuck you harder or not, Rajesh?”

He takes the impassioned, “ _Please_!” he gets as a yes, and lets himself go, moving harder-deeper, harder-deeper. Howard’s hand steals between their striving bodies, fumbles a moment, and withdraws holding the leather cock ring. Raj gasps and arches up and Sheldon can feel Raj’s cock like a long hot stone against his lower belly. He presses his mouth to the soft spot just above Raj’s clavicle, parts his lips, sinks his teeth in just that little bit, and Raj goes supernova, calling his name three times like a demon summoning and going deliriously tight around him. Sheldon wants to call Raj’s name in response, in acknowledgement, but all that comes out is, “Oh dear Lord,” as his own orgasm overwhelms him.

* * *

Sheldon has trouble looking at the other two as he excuses himself to the bathroom to clean up. His standard shower, with a little extra washcloth action around his groin, is sufficient; his half-expected urge to turn the shower to full boil and scrub himself to the bones does not manifest. He brushes his teeth. The man in the mirror still looks like him.

When he steps out into the hallway, towel around his waist (having temporarily forgotten what day it is, thus which pajamas to fetch), Raj is waiting for him, eyes back to their usual calm brown as he offers Sheldon a folded pair of pajamas. Sheldon recognizes them as being his and moreover being today’s pajamas. It seems his senses are returning. He puts them on; Raj hangs the towel up and then leads Sheldon back to the bedroom.

Howard makes a dash for the bathroom as soon as they return. Sheldon lies down awkwardly, not really certain which part of the bed is meant for him, nor why he’s here instead of in his own room, but every time he opens his mouth to ask something Raj kisses him. His kisses are soft, open-mouthed, lipping gently at Sheldon’s lower lip for the most part; Sheldon finds himself quite enjoying them.

Finally Howard comes out of the bathroom and Raj goes to take his turn (at this rate their water bill is going to skyrocket). Howard’s wearing satin monogrammed pajamas and slides straight into bed as though there’s no question where he belongs, and really, there isn’t.

“Don’t do anything with him without me around. He’s _mine_.”

“That’s beyond all doubt,” Sheldon says.

“But we should do this more often,” Howard says, as though that’s also beyond questioning.

“Hmmm.” Sheldon looks at the other man; he’s so possessive and it seems almost as though he’s only agreed to this to let Raj experiment. But when the results came out so well, it seems silly for Howard to be so ambivalent about further progressions between the three of them.

Before he can really answer, Raj comes back in, fresh-showered and wearing only forest-green boxer shorts. He crawls up the bed between them and under the covers, and after that Sheldon has no choice but to get under the covers with them; he even, after a moment’s consideration, drapes one arm across Raj’s stomach.

“That was amazing,” Raj says in a voice that sounds like his brain is orbiting Saturn. He generously kisses both of them, and then reaches past Howard to turn off the light on the nightstand.

“We should do this more often,” Howard says again. “Right, Sheldon?”

Sheldon gazes into the dark, mulling over his answer. He’s thinking about pure thought and pure sensation, working hard and distractions, and about what might be in those other two drawers of Raj’s nightstand. “I suppose we could make an amendment to the roommate agreement,” he says eventually.

Howard’s smile is audible in his voice. “We could. Or... there’s a kind of contract that Raj and I have that we could change instead.” There’s a quiet strangled noise from Raj. “We’d have to work out exactly how to word it, though. These things need to be precise about who gets to do what to whom, and with what.” His hand finds Sheldon’s; their fingers intertwine on Raj’s stomach. “Who knows, maybe we can even incorporate Anything Can Happen Thursday.”

“Brobdingnagian!” Raj squeaks.


End file.
